


nothing makes sense and i miss you

by idontwanttodothisanymore



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Im sleepy, M/M, cigarettes and sadness lmao, fill in the blank type of bullshit, it's nearly 7am, this is really vague, this is writing practice, you get to decide whether it's newt or thomas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 14:54:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13837122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontwanttodothisanymore/pseuds/idontwanttodothisanymore
Summary: struggling to get over it





	nothing makes sense and i miss you

Despite it all, he's back where it all started. In the cold.

An oversized, unfitting sweater dips too low below his shoulders to provide any sort of warmth. The baggyness of the sweater coupled with the useless holes in it cause it to be utterly redundant. Why did he buy it? His trackpants are clinging so tightly to his skin they might as well be made of the same material as leggings. Nothing provides warmth.

Not anymore, that is.

He isn't shivering though. It's a comforting sort of coolness that is settling itself over the expanse of his skin. His nose maybe cold even numb. He doesn't quite know and can't be bothered to fucking check.

It's 5am. Again.

The last time it was, he was in his bed. Opening his eyes to the stillness of the air around him, it pissed him the hell off. It was far too quiet. He allowed himself to grow use to hearing another's voice. Whispering sweet (and empty) nothings.

A cigarette is clamped between his lips, stubbornly. He could put it out and probably should. It's shrinking at an alarming rate. Especially because his lighter is burning it while his lungs work in doubletime to inhale the smoke. When the ashes singe his lips he flicks the fag and lighter across the floor.

He coughs. Coughs into a dry laugh then falls to the floor with a soft thud. It hurts his ribs but it's nothing in comparison to the emptiness he feels. A viscious and unforgiving shiver causes his body to twitch.

He exhales slowly, too slowly. It isn't enjoyable anymore.

Somehow nicotine tastes different now that his only love has left. It tastes sweet on his tongue. Sour in the back of his throat.

It's not bad

 

but

 

it tasted better

 

 

when he had someone

 

 

 

to swallow it down with.


End file.
